


Saturday Sun

by rebeccaofsbfarm



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bottom Eddie, Embedded Images, M/M, Sexting, Smut, Wall Sex, You've been warned, actual screenshots, but also FEELINGS, including dick pic, smut with feelings, though if i'm being honest vers eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccaofsbfarm/pseuds/rebeccaofsbfarm
Summary: Eddie is feeling a little loose and flirty as he lays out in his backyard, working on his tan. He sends a nude to Buck, who can't help but do something about it.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 475





	Saturday Sun

**Author's Note:**

> There were a series of inspirations for this fic. The first was that I needed some against-the-wall sex where Buck used his massive arms to hold Eddie up. The second was that a friend said that her boyfriend never laughs during sex, which is ridiculous. And the third is this TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@krisfromrgrp/video/6826012041149484294. This was meant to be quick and dirty smut and it turned into something else. I hope you don't mind.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, and for the first time in recent memory, Eddie has the house all to himself. He knows he should take advantage of the situation, but after wiping down the kitchen counter-tops, starting the laundry, and making Chris’s bed for the weekend, he feels fidgety. Usually Chris would be home by now, but this weekend he has an overnight trip to a science museum. Eddie tried to be cool when he dropped him off this morning, but he never sleeps well when Chris isn’t under the same roof. What a change from the days when they weren’t even in the same hemisphere.

The house is too quiet, the air conditioning the only sound, so Eddie decides he needs to distract himself, find a way to relax before he concentrates too closely on what could happen to Christopher in his absence. He looks out the kitchen window and sees that it’s a beautiful day outside. He opens the refrigerator, trying to find something to drink, and finds a pitcher of lemonade Buck had made the last time he came over.

When he was making it, Buck told him something about a special ingredient, but Eddie can’t quite remember it. He takes a long drink, not realizing how thirsty he was, and finishes a glass in the kitchen, pouring another before taking it and the pitcher to his backyard. He drags a reclining patio chair to the center of the yard, then returns to the patio to apply sunscreen. He gauges the tall privacy fence that surrounds the property and makes the impulsive decision to strip naked, hoping for a more even tan.

The sun warms his skin, and the lemonade slips down his throat; cool and refreshing. There’s a bite to it, and he wonders what ridiculous ingredient Buck added when he was making it, but it’s not enough for him to get up and get something else. As he drinks, the aftertaste seems to disappear, and by the time he realizes how fast he’s drinking it, it’s nearly gone.

He pulls out his phone and sees a text from Buck, just checking in from work. He’d picked up an extra shift and was texting Eddie updates about what he was missing, not that he was missing much. Eddie was sure that after his shift, Buck would come over and update him anyway.

Buck sends him a photo from the gym, flexing his bicep and sticking his tongue out at the mirror, and his arms look enormous, which of course is the point, Eddie is sure. Buck is teasing him, trying to get him warmed up for later. He feels lighter after the glass of lemonade, and he considers for a moment before he lifts his phone above his head, stroking himself until he is at his full length, and then he takes a photo. Before he can reconsider, he sends the photo to Buck.

* * *

Buck showers after his workout and finds he has worked up his appetite, so he heads to the kitchen for a snack. As he makes a sandwich and pours himself a glass of water, he glances at his lock screen and sees that Eddie had responded to his text with an attachment. He slides into the seat next to Hen at the table, where she and Chim are playing a rather heated game of Go Fish.

He taps the notification, and as the image appears on his screen, he chokes on his sandwich. Hen is concerned, patting him on the back and trying to see over his shoulder, so he flings the phone face down on the table. This piques her interest, and her lips curl into a smile.

“What’s on your phone Buckley?” she asks, reaching for his phone, but he’s just quick enough to move it out of her reach.

“It’s private.”

“I bet it is. You don’t have much of a poker face,” she teases him, and Chim joins her. Buck stands, crossing the lounge so they can’t see his screen as he responds.

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

Buck can’t stop looking at the photo. It’s not like Eddie to send him anything explicit, probably because he is a father and doesn’t want Chris finding it. But _Jesus_ , Buck wants to lick a trail across those abs and up the length of that cock.

Is he sweating? He’s definitely sweating.

“Buckaroo, you feeling okay?” Chim asks, and he comes over to lay the back of his hand across Buck’s forehead. Quickly, Buck tosses his phone into his lap so he can’t see the screen. “You don’t look so hot.”

Buck is actually _very_ hot. That is probably the best word to describe what he is feeling when he thinks of Eddie, outside, completely naked, and taking photographic evidence of it to send to him _at work_.

Bobby comes around to Chim’s side, “Buck, are you not feeling well? Maybe you should take off. It’s been a slow day, and we can call you back in if something happens.”

Chim has a knowing smile, like he suspects the real reason for the flush on Buck’s cheeks, but he doesn’t defend him or give him away. Just smirks as if to say, _you owe me_.

Buck tries to put them off because he knows that he isn’t ill. Admittedly, he’s so distracted that he probably would be no help to anyone anyway. He finally agrees, with the caveat that they should call him in if he’s needed, and then heads straight to Eddie’s.

The door is open when he arrives, and he steps into Eddie’s house. He tosses his bag to the side of the door and begins to strip off his shirt. He heads toward the backyard, but the patio chair on the lawn is empty, so he turns around, locating Eddie bare-ass naked in his own kitchen.

Buck had been so ready to jump him, but he stalls with laughter at the scene before him, Eddie standing there, bare as the day he was born, pouring himself a glass of lemonade from a half-empty pitcher.

He waits for Eddie to take a sip, and then he intercedes, tasting the sugar on his lips before Eddie has even processed that he is home. He’s only stunned for a moment, and then he’s holding Buck against him, his fingers pressing desperately into his biceps.

“What about work?” he asks, but his question is punctuated with kisses to Buck’s jaw, and his hands are slipping into Buck’s waistband to clutch at his bare ass, encouraging Buck to do away with the rest of his clothes.

“Well some asshole had me so hot and bothered they thought that I was _ill_ and sent me home,” Buck answers him, unfastening his pants and dragging them down, pressing his body flush against Eddie’s. His skin is still warm from the sun, and when Buck finds his throat with his lips, he tastes like sweat and sunshine. “You had some nerve sending me that when you knew I was working.”

“You’re always telling me I should be more spontaneous,” Eddie reminds him, and Buck scoffs because he had certainly meant it at the time, but he also thought the days of being aroused at work were behind him. “So, you liked it then?”

“What do you think?” Buck chuckles sarcastically, then falls to his knees on the tile of Eddie’s kitchen floor to show him exactly how he feels. There’s nothing for him to remove, just Eddie’s cock in front of him, ready for Buck’s mouth to envelop him. Buck opens his mouth, breathes hot air onto the head, and Eddie clutches backward against the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Is this what you wanted?” Buck asks, teasing the slit with his tongue as he strokes him. “Is that why you sent me that dirty picture? Because you wanted my mouth on you?”

Eddie doesn’t answer, just groans, and it isn’t enough for Buck so he releases his length, distracting himself with wet kisses to his abs, his tongue navigating each crease between Eddie’s muscles, until Eddie gives in, his fingers clutching against Buck’s shoulders, “Please, Buck. God, _please_.”

“Tell me baby,” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s dick as he soothes his thighs with his thumbs, gripping him with his fingers, and carefully touching everywhere but his cock. “What do you want?”

“Your mouth,” Eddie stutters, and his hips thrust involuntarily. “I want your mouth on me. _Please_.”

Buck capitulates, flattening his tongue and looking up, finding Eddie’s overcast eyes as he grabs Eddie’s ass, digging into the muscle with his fingers, and pulls him forward, bringing him into his mouth. The moment he is inside, Eddie buckles, folding over Buck’s head with his fingers in his curls, crippling with his own need.

Buck’s hands reach to his lower back, stilling him, as he continues to let Eddie fill his mouth, with shallow thrusts that work into long strokes, before his hips stutter again, and he’s keening, his fingers tugging at Buck’s hair. He fists his fingers in Buck’s curls and pulls his head back. Buck pulls off with a satisfying pop, his lips a sultry pout.

“Are you ready for me?” Buck asks, though he knows the answer from the way Eddie’s fingers untangle from his hair, grazing his cheek until he settles his thumb against Buck’s lower lip. “What do you want Eddie? Tell me.”

Eddie is always so quiet and calculating. Buck knows that few people can carry their heart on their sleeve as readily as he does, but he and Eddie have been working on communication, about telling each other what they need. Even in situations like this, Buck coaxes the words from him, wants Eddie to tell him exactly what he needs from him.

“I want _you_ ,” Eddie whimpers, then corrects himself as Buck waits for a more succinct response. “I want you to fuck me.”

Buck grips his hip bones in his hands, thumbing against the curve of his groin, and presses kisses against his abdomen, standing incrementally until he finds Eddie’s mouth, and then he’s ravenous, nipping at Eddie’s bottom lip then breaching the barrier, his tongue slipping into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie moans reflexively, and his body gives over to Buck, falling lax in his arms.

“Come here baby,” Buck directs him, tangling their fingers loosely and leading him down the hallway until they’re outside the doorway of Eddie’s room. Eddie moves to go inside, but Buck drags him back, turning him to face the wall and spreading his arms so his palms are pressed against the wall, his teeth nipping at Eddie’s shoulders before soothing him with kisses. “Wait right here for me.”

Buck returns with the lube from Eddie’s bedside drawer, and he’s kneeling again, pressing a slick finger against Eddie’s tailbone before sliding it lower. When he reaches his entrance, he teases it with his finger, then leans forward, curling his tongue and pressing it against the tight ring of muscle. Eddie’s fingers clutch against the wall, and Buck knows he needs something to occupy them, so he directs him to hold himself open.

Eddie balances his chest against the wall, moving his feet apart and spreading his ass with his hands. Buck gratefully kisses each of his knuckles before returning to his task. Each time he plies Eddie open with another finger, he fills the absence with the tip of his tongue, lapping at his entrance, and Eddie is whining with anticipation.

“Please Buck, I’m ready,” he moans, and while Buck likes to tease him, he can tell from his timbre that he is truly in need. He stands, scattering kisses over Eddie’s shoulders as he readies himself, and then he spreads Eddie’s hands against the wall. He bends his knees, and he holds his hand flat over Eddie’s hip as he enters him.

The groan of relief fills the hallway, and it is as if by filling him Buck has made him complete. Eddie tries to be compliant, but as Buck thrusts into him, his mouth hot at the crook of his neck, one of his hands goes rogue, searching until he has his fingers in Buck’s curls, dragging him into the arc of his spine.

Buck sucks at the crux of Eddie’s shoulder, hoping to leave a mark on Eddie’s sunkissed skin, and he feels Eddie’s throat vibrate against his mouth, groaning as he thrusts into him slowly, dragging moans out of him with every stroke. It’s not enough, and Buck slips out, peppering Eddie’s shoulders with kisses again as he groans in frustration at the absence.

“Baby, you know what?” he asks, taking himself in hand, pressing the head of his cock against one of Eddie’s perfect ass cheeks to promise that he isn’t finished. “I want to look at you. Turn around for me.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, turns to face him, and Buck can’t control his response when he sees the look in his eyes, the turbulence there as he waits to see what Buck will do to him. _God_ , Buck doesn’t mind being submissive, but having Eddie so yielding is doing a lot for him.

He takes his face in his hands, pinning him to the wall with his body, and licking his way into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie grips onto his biceps, clutching on to him in a way that suggests to Buck that his earlier photos had been acknowledged.

“You love that don’t you?” he asks, and Eddie looks at him quizzically, but doesn’t loosen his hold. “That I’m stronger than you. You’re into it.”

Eddie chuckles against his lips, squeezing his biceps, “Prove it.”

Buck shrugs his hands off, and Eddie waits impatiently as Buck trails his fingers down his chest, across his abs, and down his sides, until he’s dragging his nails against Eddie’s thighs. Then with one swift motion, he hooks his hands behind Eddie’s knees, taking his feet out from under him and wrapping them around his waist.

Before he’s even steadied himself, distributing Eddie’s weight against his neck and hips, Eddie is thrusting against him, “Oh fuck baby, you’ve never taken me like this before.”

“I know, but I’ve thought about it,” Buck admits, capturing his lips as he presses him against the wall, his cock sliding against the cleave of his ass without finding purchase. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Eddie breathes, and he’s dragging his fingers through the hair at the base of Buck’s neck, tugging to encourage Buck to continue. “I need you to fuck me against this wall. Right now.”

“Gladly.”

Buck extends his long fingers to spread Eddie’s ass, then thrusts inside him, driving Eddie up the wall, the sound of his skin meeting the satin paint finish sounding with each thrust. Eddie is clutching at his shoulders desperately, and Buck knows he will have scratch marks in the morning, but it feels so good to have the pressure of Eddie’ whole body against him.

He finds Eddie’s dark eyes, enraptured by the ease with which Buck carries him. The adrenaline helps, and Buck is so focused on the tightness around his cock and the sounds he pulls from Eddie that he barely even notices the weight in his arms.

Eddie sags against him, nearing his orgasm, his endurance weakening, so Buck wraps an arm around his lower back and leans into the wall with his other hand, steadying himself, then thrusts in shallow, and Eddie yelps as he finds his prostate, then focuses his aim there, crying out with Eddie as he stiffens in his arms, his cum streaking Buck’s belly.

He hasn’t quite finished himself, but Eddie is renewed, curling his arms around Buck’s shoulders and pushing off the wall. Now Buck is holding him fully, and Eddie sinks against him, using his knees to thrust against Buck, Finally, Buck succumbs, nearly falling onto his knees in the hallway with the effort of his orgasm.

Gently he releases Eddie’s thighs, letting him drop each of his legs in turn, and he wavers too, his limbs weak and unbalanced. Buck falls into him, kissing all the skin he can reach: face, neck, nose, earlobes, until Eddie smiles against his lips gratefully, closing the space between them.

“God I’m thirsty,” Buck admits as he pulls away, knowing that his lips are probably dry.

“I could tell,” Eddie teases him, before gesturing toward that kitchen. “You can have some of that lemonade you made. What was it you put in that? It was really good.”

Buck smirks. He had noticed earlier how much Eddie had drank and wondered if that had to do with his lack of inhibition, “Vodka, Eddie. That lemonade is like 75% vodka.”

Eddie blanches, “That would explain—”

“Sure would,” Buck finishes for him, grabbing two glasses and pouring what is left of the lemonade. “I did tell you. I guess you were distracted.”

Admittedly, he had told Eddie about the lemonade after straddling him on the couch, just before a rather intense make-out session, so he couldn’t blame him for ignoring the words he was saying when he was obviously focused on the lips saying them. Thankfully, Christopher had listened when he told him not to drink from the pitcher in the refrigerator. At least one of the Diaz boys paid attention.

Buck looks down and realizes that after scoffing at Eddie earlier, now he too is standing naked in the kitchen. He hopes this doesn’t color his memories the next time he’s making dinner for Christopher and Isabel. Eddie must see him becoming self-aware because he shrugs.

“I mean, how often do we get a whole weekend without Christopher around. I say we take our chances.”

He leans toward Buck, his fingers grazing his hip bone as he leans forward and kisses him, his lips sugar-sweet and dewy, and Buck knows he’ll do anything Eddie asks.

“Can we order a pizza?” Buck asks, considering the dangers of cooking naked, and Eddie smiles before pulling out his phone. Buck is sure he has the usual place on speed dial, and he calls and gives their usual order.

“And please put pineapple on half,” he tells the person on the other end, scrunching his face to show Buck his distaste on the subject. “Yes, that will be all. Thank you.”

Eddie makes the motion of searching his pockets, but of course there are no pockets to search and his pants are nowhere to be found, so he mutters, “Cash. Thanks.”

“Where are your clothes anyway?” Buck asks, leaning toward him, and he wishes he didn’t find Eddie’s tolerance of pineapple on pizza sexy, but it’s disgusting the number of things about Eddie that he is attracted to. The other day, he found it attractive the way he adjusted his name badge at work, and while he realizes it is _too much_ , he can’t help himself.

Eddie shrugs, the flush of newfound shame now that he knew he was under the influence evident on his face as he answers, “The back patio.”

“Where anybody could see you?” Buck says, closing the distance between them and tipping up Eddie’s chin so he meets his eyes. “Eddie, you belong to me now. I want to be the only one that gets to see you like this, that gets to see _all of you_.”

Eddie growls, dragging his nails against his ass before spanking him gently, “You need to shut up right now. We don’t have time before the pizza gets here, and you know what’s going to happen if you keep that up.”

Buck drags his lips against Eddie’s brow before pressing his lips gently against his skin, “You’re right. But thankfully, we have all weekend.”

* * *

When the doorbell rings, Eddie’s mouth is sucking against Buck’s pulse point, his fingers stroking the inside of Buck’s thigh as he vocalizes beneath him. It rings again, and Buck sighs, leaping off the couch and jogging to the kitchen to grab his pants. He pulls them on, leaving them undone, and Eddie is pleased to see that his throat is flushed, and there are a series of bruises that scatter from his chin to his collarbone.

Buck opens the door to a young female delivery driver, and Eddie can see that he’s being rather friendly. He watches as she glances at him, obviously attracted to him, before her eyes trail down his shirtless chest, then notice the hickeys trailing down his throat. He knows it’s cruel to enjoy the way her face falls, but she should be aware that Buck is _taken_. By him.

“Babe!” he calls out, projecting so the driver can hear him. He positions himself so that she could see him, not all of him of course, if she cared to look. “God you really worked up my appetite. Where’s that pizza?”

Buck looks slightly embarrassed, but he hands her the cash from his wallet and probably tips her well for the inconvenience. He carries the pizza toward the couch and sets it down on the coffee table, heading toward the kitchen. When he returns, he’s carrying what’s left of the pitcher and seems to have lost his pants somewhere along the way.

Eddie spreads his legs seductively, and he’s too hungry to do anything about the way he feels as his eyes rake over Buck’s body, but that doesn’t mean he can’t remind Buck of what is on offer.

“Maybe you should have invited her in,” Eddie teases him. Buck would flirt with anyone. It’s his natural instinct to please people, and Eddie knows from experience how good it feels to make him smile.

Buck leans in to kiss his temple, before opening the pizza box and diving in, being sure to take from the pineapple side, “You know I don’t share. Not you, at least.”

Eddie watches him as he pulls a long string of cheese with his pizza, looping it around his finger before popping it into his mouth. Eddie smiles, and he knows in his heart that he’s in love, but he hasn’t found the nerve to tell Buck yet. Instead, he reminds him, “I just want you to know that you belong to me too.”

Buck stops chewing for a moment, his hand settling on Eddie’s knee, before he leans forward and kisses him. He tastes like marinara, garlic, and unfortunately, pineapple, but in this case, Eddie will bear it willingly. When they part, Eddie finally moves to begin eating, pouring them each half a glass of lemonade from what is left before grabbing a piece of pizza.

“Want to watch something?” Buck asks, reaching for the remote. They’ve spent so many hours on this couch making gratuitous use of Eddie’s Disney+ account with Christopher, but most nights they’re too tired to watch an adult movie by the time Chris heads to bed. “What’s your favorite movie of all time?”

Eddie hesitates, thinking carefully because he has many depending on his mood, but there’s one he’d like Buck to see, “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“Why would I make fun of you? Is it _The Notebook_?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, but it’s a Western and you’re bound to make some crack about being from Texas.”

He watches as the jokes form in Buck’s eyes, but he doesn’t say any of them, “Is it your favorite movie?”

“Definitely top three,” he confirms, and Buck hands him the remote, reaching for another slice of pizza. As Eddie searches through his streaming channels, he finally finds one that has the movie. Buck glances sideways at him when he sees the “continue watching” section of his screen, and he shrugs, “Listen, the least I could do for my Abuela is add on Starz. She fucking loves _Outlander_.”

“Damn, do you know how much—” Buck raises his brow suggestively, and Eddie interrupts him before he can finish.

“I try not to think about it, thanks,” Eddie says, slipping the blanket off the back of the couch and wrapping it around them. It’s easier than turning the air conditioning down. He starts the movie, “Have you ever seen this?”

Buck shakes his head as the sound of an old timey projector starts on the screen and the credits roll so Buck can finally see the title of the film, _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_. As the movie starts, he sets aside the remainder of the pizza and his empty glass, and curls against Eddie’s side, wrapping his arms around his waist. Eddie curls his arm across Buck’s, thumbing over his bicep affectionately.

“My dad used to love this movie when I was a kid,” Eddie shares, settling against Buck under the blanket. “I used to like the shooting and the bank robberies, obviously, but when I was a teenager I started actually paying attention.”

Buck shushes him so he can hear the movie, and Eddie is pleased that he seems engrossed. He occasionally glances over at him to see his reactions. When Butch tells Sundance to kill his opponent if he loses a fight, Buck chuckles against him. _And you can have mine_ , Eddie remembers him saying once.

They reach the scene when Buck and Sundance need to go into hiding. A woman comes onto the screen, and she’s lit through the window after arriving home, before she turns in for the night. When she reaches her bedroom, Sundance is sitting there, and he surprises her. He shows her that he is armed, pulls back the hammer on his pistol, and tells her to continue undressing. She does as he directs, taking her hair down and standing there in only her shift. He tells her to continue, and she unbuttons to her navel, waiting for his direction. Sundance approaches her, slips his hands inside her shift, and it’s then you realize that she knows him, that she’s been waiting for this. It had all been a game.

“Maybe I should let you undress me like that sometime,” Buck whispers, his breath warm against Eddie’s ear. He kisses his shoulder, then turns back to face the movie. Eddie feels his face go hot at the thought, and as silly as it is, he may take him up on his offer.

Just after that scene, there’s a montage of photos of the three of them arriving in Bolivia, and it’s backed by the sound of ragtime, but there’s no dialogue, so Eddie takes the chance to find Buck’s lips, kissing him softly, his fingertips grazing the apple of his cheek.

“Do you like it?”

Buck nods against his palm, “I do. I love it.”

“Good,” Eddie smiles, then discloses. “Actually, you can blame Paul Newman for all this,” he gestures between them, “because it’s this movie that gave my bisexual awakening when I was a teenager. It’s also the reason I’m _weak_ for blue eyes.”

“Like these?” Buck opens his eyes wide and bats his lashes. He really does love Buck’s eyes, loves how expressive they are. Buck’s eyes are like a window into his soul, so clear and blue that they can’t obscure the way he feels. Just now he’s feeling playful and affectionate, and the corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile.

The movie starts again, and now their fingers are tangled in Eddie’s lap as he leans against Buck’s chest. Buck’s fingers are combing through his hair, scratching his scalp the way he likes. He’s soothed by the rise and fall of Buck’s chest, and he barely makes it to the end of the movie before he’s falling asleep against him.

“So they were definitely fucking, right?” Buck asks after the big shoot out, as the credits roll. Eddie jolts himself awake, but he still settles against Buck, ready for sleep.

He shrugs against him, answering sleepily, before punctuating with a yawn, “I’ve always thought so. Bisexual icons if you ask me.”

Buck chuckles low in his chest, “Should we get you to bed?”

“Carry me,” Eddie teases him, but Buck shifts from beneath him, and before he can work up the energy to stand, Buck is lifting him beneath his legs and back and he’s off the couch. He’s carried people like this a thousand times as a firefighter, but he has never once been the one suspended in the air. It’s a little nerve-wracking, and he’s tempted to tell Buck to put him down, but then he sees the joy on Buck’s face and loops his arms around his neck. “Fine, take me to bed.”

* * *

When Eddie wakes, it’s still nighttime, and he waits for his eyes to adjust as he anchors himself. Buck’s arms are wrapped loosely around him, and he’s grunting sleepily. Eddie realizes what has woken him, feeling a hardness pressing against him as Buck whimpers in his sleep. He smirks, but his body awakens, and as Buck presses his length against his ass unconsciously, Eddie’s responds in kind.

He turns in Buck’s arms, peppering his jaw with kisses until he wakes, and Eddie is already thrusting against him, the slow friction against his cock a wordless explanation of why Eddie has woken him. His lips curl into a smile, and Eddie can tell that he has just emerged from a rather scandalous dream.

“You started it,” he warns him, reaching backwards to search for the handle of the drawer on his nightstand. After rummaging for a moment, he returns with lubricant, and takes them both in hand. “Now who were you dreaming about?”

“ _You_ ,” Buck breathes as Eddie’s hand constricts around him. It could be a lie, Eddie knows, but he can tell it isn’t as Buck’s fingers clutch against his biceps desperately. “It’s always you.”

For a moment, Eddie feels his chest seize, and he’s not sure if it’s his heart or his lungs that stutter, but his lips find Buck’s and he lets his tongue run flatly across the split before Buck allows him entrance. He’s moaning into Buck’s mouth, his palm rough against his cock, in contrast to the smoothness of Buck’s length sliding against him. Buck is thrusting into his grip now, and he can feel them, driving toward the same point, keeping pace, until he loses control, his hand springing away as he comes.

Buck takes over, wrapping his fist around them until they’ve ridden out their climax, then slowly stroking Eddie afterward as he presses gentle kisses against his collarbones. Eddie hisses, too sensitive now, and Buck releases him, then pulls him close to make up the difference.

“What a way to wake up,” Buck appraises, pressing his lips against Eddie’s forehead, nuzzling into this hair as Eddie absently draws shapes on his back. “You’re welcome to do that any time.”

“I’ll consider it,” Eddie teases him with a grin.

Buck looks so pleased, so content in that moment, that Eddie can’t help but reach out to graze his fingertips against his temple, and he’s surprised when Buck leans into his palm, before turning his face to kiss the base of his thumb.

He recalls a scene from his freshman English class, one he hasn’t thought of for years, when his teacher had forced him to read the part of Romeo against Bobbi McKenzie’s Juliet. He’d been embarrassed at the time, but the words had stuck with him.

**JULIET**

_Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,_

_Which mannerly devotion shows in this,_

_For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,_

_And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._

**ROMEO**

_Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?_

**JULIET**

_Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer._

**ROMEO**

_O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do._

_They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._

He hadn’t known then. How could he? How could a fourteen-year-old kid understand the depth of human communication through touch? He would lose his virginity a year later, but it hadn’t felt like this. Nothing had felt like this. Just the press of Buck’s lips to his palm had felt incendiary, like a flare in the desert sky. Buck seems to sense his stillness, but patiently waits for him to return to the present. When he does, he finds a surety he is only just now settling into.

Touching Buck is like a priest’s blessing, like a gift from God himself. Kissing him is the answer to a thousand prayers. And loving him, loving him is best of all.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and he isn’t sure if Buck has heard him, but he quickly follows with, “but you don’t have to—”

“Love you too,” Buck responds, and he doesn’t know who closes the gap, but the next words he says are said against Eddie’s lips. “So in love with you.”

* * *

When Buck wakes, it’s morning, and the sunlight streaks through Eddie’s blinds. He loves waking up here more than waking up in his own home, not least of all because Eddie is here with him. It’s not at all like the way Eddie woke him up in the middle of the night, but when he opens his eyes, squinting into the light, he finds Eddie watching him, a content smile on his face.

“Hey,” he says playfully, wondering to himself what Eddie has been thinking, watching him sleep. He wishes he would offer him some insight but knows that Eddie is a man of few words. He proves it with his response.

“Hey.”

Buck curls his arms around Eddie’s neck, pulling him close, “Got anything else you might want to say to me, you know, in the light of day?”

“What?” Eddie fakes astonishment, before kissing both corners of his mouth. “Oh, you mean what I said last night!”

“I do.” Buck tries to drag the words from his teasing mouth, by force if necessary, kissing him to encourage him. Eddie starts to kiss him back, and he’s distracted by the way his nails drag against the back of his scalp, but stubbornly returns to the conversation. “Tell me.”

Eddie smiles coyly at him, but his face softens, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as adoration radiates from him.

Buck has always wondered if somebody would ever look at him like this. He’s watched the faces of the people around him, seen their longing for the person they loved, questioned whether anybody could ever feel that way about him, could have that beautiful, blissful look in their eyes when they saw him. But when he looks at Eddie, when he sees Eddie _seeing_ him, he knows that he’s found it.

“I’m in love with you Buck,” Eddie reminds him softly, and this time it feels real. Part of him still believes last night had all been something he had dreamt up and imagined to spite himself. But hearing it again, being able to see Eddie’s face clearly in the morning sunlight, he feels like his heart is expanding, threatening to tear open his chest, on display for everyone. Tattooed on its surface would be Eddie’s name, for all to see. Eddie sees the tears gather in the corners of his eyes, and he reaches out to wipe them away. “I am so, _incredibly_ , in love with you Evan Buckley.”

If he settles into this moment, let’s Eddie’s words wash over him at full force, he knows he will fall apart, and he doesn’t want to. Not this morning anyway, not with the Saturday morning sunshine pouring through the window and Eddie’s eyes taking him in. Instead he slots his fingers against Eddie’s throat, pulling him into a kiss that quickly devolves into frantic groping, until he swings his legs over Eddie’s hips, pulling himself up so he straddles him. He steadies himself with his palms pressed against Eddie’s chest and drags his hips against Eddie’s pelvis, waits until he feels him harden beneath him before reaching for the bedside drawer. He rummages inside but can’t find the lube.

He remembers the night before and realizes that Eddie must not have put it back, so he frantically tosses the sheets to find the bottle. Eddie chuckles beneath him, letting Buck search hopelessly as he holds his hips, and now it’s Eddie dragging against him, making it incredibly _hard_ to focus on finding the missing lubricant.

“Eddie…” he groans, clutching his fingers against Eddie’s pecs, before pinching his nipples tempestuously. He’s bearing down now, grinding against Eddie’s cock, and he could come without it, but he _needs_ Eddie inside him. “Where is the god-damn lube?”

Eddie smirks, but impatiently searches beneath his pillow, pulling out an inconspicuous bottle and dribbling the oil onto his fingers. He slips them between their bodies, and Buck leans up on his knees as Eddie spreads him, gently separating his fingers to allow for the stretch, until Buck is bent over, pleading for him.

Eddie removes his fingers, using the remaining lubricant to stroke himself, before guiding his cock against Buck’s entrance. Buck sinks into him, stilling for a moment as he adjusts to the fullness inside of him, but then gratefully bottoms out, loving the sound it pulls from Eddie when he does.

He’d heard of the term _boyfriend dick_ before, but he’d never really understood until he felt Eddie inside him. The way Eddie fits, it feels as if they were built for each other, as if the curve of his cock was pre-determined to angle just right against his prostate, to fill him without causing him pain. Eddie’s cock is _perfect_ for him, and the thought of it makes him laugh.

Eddie loves it when he’s mouthy, especially in bed, because he finds it a challenge to quiet him. Buck’s laughter must inspire such a challenge, because Eddie’s fingers grip his hip bones, and then he’s snapping his hips against Buck. The sensation is so hard and fast that Buck drops his torso, using his hands to balance on either side of Eddie’s head.

He finds Eddie’s eyes, lets him see what this does to him, letting his mouth hang open to vocalize the way Eddie makes him feel. Eddie presses his lips to Buck’s open mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and then he’s holding Buck against him, one hand in his hair and one against his hip. He begins a rolling motion, his hand against the ball of his hip joint, and Buck catches his intention, beginning to roll his hips as he is directed.

It’s slow and sweaty as Eddie holds him, a steady crescendo, leading toward an epic finish. His bad leg starts to bother him, and he tries to power through, but Eddie is watching him closely, must see the grimace cross his face, and he stops, holding Buck still.

“Your leg?” Eddie asks quickly, concerned.

“Yeah,” he admits, but he bears down again to signal his intentions. “But I want to finish this first.”

Eddie pulls him forward into a kiss, then uses his bearing to turn them over, pressing Buck into his pillows without breaking the kiss or slipping out of him. His fingers trail down Buck’s chest, before finding his cock, fisting him in time with his own thrusts. Buck doesn’t know where to put his hands, but needs to touch him, needs to feel Eddie’s skin against his own. He reaches for Eddie’s shoulders, holding him as he thrusts, slow and deep, his lips mouthing at Buck’s pulse point.

“Is this better?” he asks quietly, the timbre of his voice vibrating against Buck’s throat.

“So good,” Buck mutters, searching for words to piece together as his nerves become a pinpoint somewhere in his abdomen, and his moans turn into demands, “Fuck, baby, make me come for you. Fill me up with your cock. I love your cock, baby.”

Eddie’s hips stutter against him, his hand constricting as he comes, filling Buck with satisfied warmth as he stumbles into his own orgasm, screaming as he comes.

“Fuck!” he shouts, and then Eddie falls against him, punch-drunk and laughing. Buck kisses his temple affectionately, then hums the words he wants to say again and again.

“God-damn it, I love you.”

* * *

When they’d talked about having a weekend to themselves, Buck had thought of a thousand things they could do together, but what they do instead is stay in bed and eat leftover pizza. They take turns curling against each other’s chests, sharing stories back and forth, talking about the future. They also touch each other experimentally, and Buck finds that Eddie loves it when he kisses him just below his ear. He continues searching for other places, measuring their intensity by the way Eddie’s breathing shallows out. He loves kissing his mouth most, the way their lips fit together, moving in sync like they were destined to do just this for the rest of their lives.

He pulls away, and he doesn’t want to scare Eddie, doesn’t want him to be just another person that _leaves_ , but he has to ask, he has to know, “Eds, are we serious?”

Eddie finds his hand with his own, folding his fingers so he can press his lips against Buck’s knuckles, “I’m in love with you Buck. I’d say so.”

“So maybe we should make it official,” Buck suggests nervously. They hadn’t spoken about labels, but this last twenty-four hours has changed things for him. He knows that Eddie belongs to him, and that the feeling is mutual, but he wants to have this openness all the time. He wants to be able to hold Eddie after a bad call in the firehouse, wants to carpool to work with him after spending the night, wants people to know that he is taken _for good_.

“No,” Eddie says, and it surprises him, but not as much as it surprises Eddie. Buck pulls away from him, but then he is being dragged back, forcefully, “No, Buck, I didn’t mean it. My words got ahead of me. What I mean is, I want more than that.

“I can tell what you mean. And I want those things too. Tomorrow when Chris gets home, we should take him out to dinner and explain everything. And on Monday we should schedule a meeting with Bobby to go over paperwork, and then probably have everyone over to tell them the good news,” Eddie explains, and he hasn’t yet said anything Buck wasn’t already thinking, but then he continues.

“But when I think of having everyone over, you’re here next to me, and you should be. Waking up this morning, knowing you could stay here with me…I want that Buck. I want you to move in.”

Buck is stunned, doesn’t know what to say, but then stutters, “What about Chris?”

“Chris is in love with you too,” Eddie teases him. “He’d like nothing more than to have you here with us. Especially if you agree to make dinner most nights. We both know I’m a terrible cook.”

“You mean it don’t you?” Buck asks, hesitantly. “This isn’t some sex-fueled hallucination, is it? You want me to move in?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to tell everyone we’re dating?”

“Yes.”

“And you love me?”

“I do,” Eddie confirms, and then he kisses him. Buck knows he hasn’t given his answer, but Eddie knows what it is. Soon this will all be _his_. This bed, the sheets that smell like sandalwood and sweat, their bedroom, their home. But most of all Eddie, here in his arms and totally _his_.


End file.
